Costco Experience Ch. 08

I explained about my further questioning of my wife and how it hurt me when she couldn't remember the details of last night. Jackie looked deeply into my eyes and said, "Michael, you don't need a massage therapist, what you need is a psychiatrist . . . or maybe a good bartender." We had a good laugh over that. She cupped my face in her hands then softly pulled her lips to mine. She held them there so tenderly my mind raced. Wasn't she supposed to teach me to fuck?

My hand instinctively went to her breast but Jackie pulled it away. Looking at me with a truly caring smile Jackie said, "Michael, just talk today, remember." I nodded. Then she asked, "So tell me how things are progressing with your other two friends. Are you learning to fuck them?

Shaking my head I said, "Lissa won't be a problem but with CeCe I'm not sure. You on the other hand are a conundrum because you are different from time to time."

Jackie looked me at me so deeply then said, "Michael, it's just that I care about you so much. You are such a good man with a wonderful heart and I'd hate to see it broken. I also don't want to get a call from Vickie telling me that you've played so hard with all of these ladies that you've had a heart attack and died. Can you tone it down a little?"

I chuckled, then said, "Yeah, I guess four or five times a week is a little much for a guy my age, isn't it?"

Jackie gasp, "What? Are you serious? Michael, you're going to kill yourself."

I smiled and kissed her again then said, "Yeah, but what a way to go."

Jackie pushed me away playfully saying, "You men, you're all alike!" I happened to see the clock on her mantle and realized it was after 4:00 and told her I had better get going. We said our good byes and I headed for home.

Walking into our kitchen, Joe greeted me, his tail wagging 90 miles an hour. At least someone was glad to see me at home. I found my wife in her recliner, watching television and playing games on her tablet. I turned to walk away and she must have noticed my movement then said, "Michael, you're home."

"Hello my love," I said, "How has your day been? More being nice than really caring.

"Well you missed Jeffery and Kelly," my wife said, "They were asking about Chad. Since I had received a text earlier from Cynthia earlier that Chad was home and I told them that everything was going to be just fine."

I gritted my teeth and had my hands on my hips and rather loudly said, 'Vickie you're incredulous you know. It just means that they don't have enough evidence to charge him right now. Verizon probably verified that his phone was home all night, but Chad could have purchased a burner phone. Hell I know if I was in his place, I would have."

"But Cynthia and the twins told the officers he was home," my wife said.

"And you don't think that our daughter and grandsons would have lied to keep Chad out of jail?" I said. "I'm still upset at her for lying to me for all those years. As far as I'm concerned, not telling me and allowing me to be an unwitting cuckold was the ultimate betrayal by her. Goddammit, by both of you!" I spat. I was pissed.

"M . . . M . . . Michael, you're not going to forgive me even though I've allowed you to play with those other ladies?" my wife asked.

I thought my head was going to explode. "Yeah, right!" I said almost yelling, "Now that I'm seventy fucking three, you let me have a hallpass. Maybe if you'd given it to me twenty five years ago when I was still young and virile it might have made a difference. Hell, now I'm taking Cialis in order to try to keep up with these women. Now Jackie is worried that I'm going to have a heart attack and die while I'm screwing one of them. Tell me my wife, how the hell would you feel if I was in bed with one of them and did have a heart attack and die? How would you explain it to Jeffery and Kelly, our friends, our pastor? Would you tell them that you had given me your permission? Would you tell them that it was your idea so that it would ease your conscience over haven cheated on me all those years ago? Would you tell them about all the times Tom fucked you in our home and on our kitchen table or that you let him and his friends use you like a cheap whore fucking you in all your holes in his apartment? Tell me, WOULD YOU?"

My wife's tears were a torrent now as she dobbed tissue after tissue to stop the flow. Then Joe came up and nuzzled my leg, wanting attention and I reached down to scratch his back and rub his ears then said, "At least someone in this house still loves me." At that, my wife jumped up, headed into our kitchen and grabbed her purse. The next thing I knew I heard her car tires throwing gravel as she tore out our driveway for heaven knows where. I filled a glass with ice then almost to the top with sour mash and went into the den and turned on my computer.

There were two new videos from CeCe. Damn that girl could get nasty with her videos. Fighting the urge to jack off, I read the rest of my emails and dispatched the unwanted garbage. It was a little after 8:00 and my stomach was telling me it was time to eat. I tried to call my wife but it went straight to voicemail. Her phone was off. I went to our refrigerator and found some meatloaf. Was that four or five days ago we had it for dinner I wondered. It wasn't fuzzy so I made a sandwich and gave the rest to Joe. Putting away the mayonnaise I happened to spy a bottle of port near the back and pulled it out. I remember opening it months ago but for some reason, we had never drunk any of it. I took the bottle, a small glass and the sandwich and headed back to my computer.

I sat down and played solitaire as I ate my sandwich and worked on that bottle of port. Joe laid under my desk, at least he was there to keep me company. At 11:00 I called Rebecca. I could tell she had been asleep. I asked, "I'm sorry to bother you this late but you haven't happened to see Vickie tonight, have you?"

She answered sleepily, "No, why? Isn't she home? Have you tried her cell phone?

"Well I said a few things I needed to get off my chest and it upset her and she drove off. She has apparently turned off her cell phone and I don't know where she is. If she shows up please have her call me, will you? I'd really appreciate it." I said.

Rebecca surprised me saying, "Look Michael, we both know how stubborn that redhead of yours can be. If she shows up, I'll try to have her call you but if she won't, I'll give you a call. Do all of us a favor and try to get some rest. I'm sure she's ok, she probably just needs some time by herself."

I resumed my game of solitaire, I only needed three thousand more points to get to the next level. I poured the last bit of port into my glass as I played. The next thing I knew, Joe was barking like crazy in our kitchen, then I heard a big crash. I jumped up, it was a quarter after three and I was a little wobbly but I ran to see what the commotion was. Shit we had a raccoon in the kitchen, I hadn't locked the doggy door. Several of our cupboards were open, cereal boxes were shredded to bits. The damn thing had knocked over a container of flour and little white foot prints were everywhere.

I grabbed a broom and tried to usher him back out Joe's door. That wasn't working as he scurried to other parts of our home. Damn that bugger was fast. At first it was easy to track him. He was leaving a clear trail for me to follow. Soon that ended and It was Joe that found him, he was under what had been Cynthia's old bed. I had opened our patio door and screen and using the broom, I was able to get him out. I looked at the damage and cursed myself for not locking Joe's door. It took me until after six in the morning to get it all cleaned up. I tried my wife's phone once more. Still no answer. Damn her anyway. I crawled back under the covers and as I tried to get back to sleep, I thought of what tomorrow was going to bring when I met Lissa at her home and my old cock twitched just a bit. Well, maybe I wasn't completely over the hill just yet.

I didn't wake up until 11:00 and I made a quick check of our house. When I checked my computer, I saw my notes about the make-over studios and decided to call and see what the cost was and what type of services they offered. I told them it was for my daughter to send to her husband stationed overseas. It was only one hundred and fifty dollars. I told them it was going to be a surprise. Hey, it really was.

Shit, my wife still wasn't home and her phone was yet off. I was beginning to worry about her a lot more. At three forty-five I was able to breathe a little easier when I saw my wife walking in. "Hello, my love." I said as she walked into our kitchen, "May I get you something cold to drink?"

"A Sprite please Michael," my wife said. I was amazed she didn't ask for some wine. After filling her a glass, I led her to the couch in our family room and we sat next to each other.

Holding her hand in mine, I asked, "Where were you last night? My dear."

Watching my wife's lips quivering for a few seconds though it felt much longer, she said, "Michael, I can tell you haven't forgiven me and your anger seems to be increasing. I didn't know where I was going, I just drove. It was late last night, well early this morning when my fuel light came on. It was 3:15 or so. I pulled off the offramp where the sign said, 'Gas - Food - Lodging' the only problem was the gas station was closed. I decided to get a room and wait for the gas station to open. Check-out time was 10:00 so I put in a wakeup call for 9:00."

"Michael, I lay in bed a long time, thinking I am going to have to learn to sleep alone again. I must tell you; I don't like it. Not one bit."

"I know," I said, "Joe doesn't hold hands very well either." That brought out a smile and a chuckle from my wife of 50 years.

My wife threw her arms around me, squeezing me half to death. "Michael, I know I've said it before and you don't seem to accept it but I am heartily sorry for my foolish actions and am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you and our family. Can we ever get back to the loving family we once were?" My wife said as we held each other.

I kissed her forehead and each of her salty cheeks. Neither of us wanted to be the first to let go. Joe pushing his solid-rock-like head in between us broke our reverie. His food dish was empty. He had carried it in from the kitchen to empathize his point. I picked up his dish and still holding my wife's hand, walked into the kitchen to fill his bowl. I sat her down at our big kitchen dining table and got Joe taken care of then sat down next to Vickie.

We turned to face each other and I took her hands into mine and I said, "My sweet love, I have loved you since the very first time I saw you. Just the vision of you implanted your countenance into my brain and upon my heart." She had started to cry so I handed her a napkin. "Sweetheart," I said, "there's no need to cry. I am not going anywhere and there is not going to be a divorce, unless you're going to file for one. You're not, are you?"

Vickie threw her arms around my neck, her lips pressed hard against mine as her tongue began to twist and turn with my own. She pressed her body tightly to me with a desire I hadn't seen in my wife in years. Her breasts were pressed tightly to my chest and her one hand had ahold of my ass. Breaking our kiss, she leaned back a bit and said so seductively, "Michael, meet me in bed." My wife turned and started towards the hallway to our bedroom.

"My precious wife," I asked, "Would that be so I can make love to my sweetheart or would you rather I fucked you like a slut?"

Vickie stopped in her tracks and I was afraid I had said the wrong thing. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at me and with this wicked grin she said, "Both!"

W . . . O . . . W .! is the only thing that came to mind.